


These Shadows Keep on Changing

by Tabithian



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Red Robin (Comics), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-26
Updated: 2012-07-26
Packaged: 2017-11-10 18:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/469313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tabithian/pseuds/Tabithian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It happens too fast to make sense of at the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Shadows Keep on Changing

**Author's Note:**

> Ahaha, the one where the Bat Family are hunters and Tim gets bitten by a werewolf? Because of reasons. :D?
> 
> .../o\

It happens too fast to make sense of at the time. 

Damian angry and yelling, Tim just as angry and _stupid_ , distracted. (Tim knows his place in the family, knows the reason Damian gets to him so badly, why he can't shake off whatever Damian says.)

He doesn't see the werewolf until it's too late. A low growl from the shadows, building into a roar as it leaps, going for Damian. Tim manages to push Damian out of the way, turning back to the werewolf - too late – and then it's on him, fangs tearing into his arm, shotgun knocked from his hands. The werewolf's weight bearing them down to the ground. 

"Drake!"

Tim kicks out at the werewolf, nausea roiling as it jerks its head savagely, releases his arm and goes for his throat. Tim's yell is ripped from his throat, pain and desperation, as he strikes out at it with his good hand, catches it in its throat, tries to roll away. 

A furious snarl and it's on him again, mindless, berserker. He glimpses a flash of color from the edge of his vision, _Damian_ , and then the _boom_ of Tim's shotgun overtaken by the werewolf's yelp. Crushing weight as the werewolf collapses over him, pinning him in place. 

Tim closes his eyes, forces down the pain, _breathebreathebreathe_.

"Drake?"

The crunch of footsteps, Damian coming towards him warily. The werewolf's dead, Damian's always been a good shot, scornful of Tim's shotgun, claiming it's for the unskilled. Tim likes his shotgun for its stopping power. 

"Thanks," Tim whispers, opening his eyes to see Damian looking down at him, something like concern on his face. "Do me a favor and call Dick, yeah?" Bruce is out of town, helping Barbara with something, Tim thinks. He can't really remember.

"I - "

"Damian." Tim's pleased with the way it comes out steady, calm, because he's as far away from that as it's possible to get. 

"At least let me see to your wounds."

Tim wants to laugh so badly, but he knows if he does he won't be able to stop. "Okay, sure." He looks at Damian. Young, scared and trying hard to hide it. "You did good, Damian.” 

That gets him a disdainful look. "You're a fool, Drake."

Maybe? Maybe. But even with Damian doing his best to give Tim the best terrible life experience, he's family. This life has taught Tim the importance of family, more than his own ever had. 

"And you're a brat." Tim concentrates on helping Damian shove the dead werewolf off of him, hopefully before it shifts back. "I think that makes us even."

********

Tim wishes the werewolf had killed him outright, that he wouldn't be forced to live this - _this_.

"Hey, Timmy." Dick's voice is overly bright, forced. 

Tim can smell his worry, his exhaustion. They all carry sadness around with them, but since the attack it's grown heavier, weaving in all the stages of grief without the benefit of a body to mourn. (So far.) Tim's senses are. Expanding isn't the right word, sharpening may be a little better. 

If any good can be said to come of the attack it's that Tim was able to pinpoint where the dirt samples Dick found at an attack came from when he brought them back to the cave on scent alone. That had saved the life of a young girl, taken by a changeling. 

"Hey, Dick." 

They both ignore the cage Tim's sitting in, silver alloy Bruce had assured him would keep him from hurting anyone. (A bullet would be better for that, but Tim doesn't dare say so where they can hear.) The full moon is in two days and they'll know if - They'll know. 

_"Not all transformations are...unstable," Bruce had said, like anyone knew what made the difference between a berserker werewolf and one that wasn't, that wasn't a mindless beast during a full moon._

Dick smiles, strained despite his best efforts. "Bruce and Damian are looking for a cure." He reaches a hand towards the bars, and drops it at the look Tim gives him. “Everyone's looking for a cure, Tim. We haven't given up. We won't give up.”

Tim snorts. "He's still blaming himself for this, isn't he?"

Dick _looks_ at him, and. Of course Damian's still blaming himself, he's too much like Bruce that way.

"Idiot." Tim rubs a hand over his face. "Dick - "

" _No,_ Tim. We'll figure this out, okay? Just. Hold in there."

Tim lifts his head, sees the desperation on Dick's face. "Okay, Dick. Okay." He feels like he's soothing a spooked animal, the way Dick looks at him, like. Like his world's breaking, falling apart in front of him. "It's going to be okay." 

********

Jason's the only one Tim can go to. He's the only one Tim can think of to ask for this, the only one who won't - Who won't.

"Replacement?" And, oh, how did he never notice that there's no anger, bitter resentment behind that now? Hasn't been for a while?

"Jason." Tim reins his emotions in, can't afford to lose control now. "Jason, I need your help."

Jason pulls the door open, looks Tim over, takes in the state of Tim's hands, the burns on his face. "What the hell happened to you?" A low growl. "Where the hell are Bruce and Dick - "

Tim laughs, shakes his head. His hands are red, raw-looking, already healing. The burns on his face sting, itch, also healing. They'll be gone in a matter of minutes.

"I." Another rough laugh verging on a growl. "That's why I came to you."

They don't know he's gone yet - probably. Don't know that he escaped from the cage, the metal burning his hands when he touched them, face pressed against the bars for a moment when he'd tried to get a better look at the lock, but he'd needed to get out. To get away from them, before. Before. 

He closes his eyes, remembers the smell of Dick's blood thick in the air, Tim's hands, his _claws_ at Dick's throat.

Jason stares, eyes flicking from Tim's hand his face, nostrils flaring. "Why are you here, Replacement?"

Tim laughs, drops his head. "You're the only one who'll do it." The only one who'll kill him, keep the others from harboring false hope, from putting themselves in further danger because of him. The full moon has come and gone and Tim. God. He'd come so damn close to killing Dick. 

Jason gets it, and, because it's Jason, his first reaction is to aim a punch at Tim's head. Tim's not so far gone that he doesn't see it coming, but considers it a fair enough price for what he's asking Jason to do. (Or maybe the first down payment, because for all that Jason hates him – does he still? - this isn't fair of Tim, is the worst thing he could ask anyone.)

"You're a fucking idiot, Replacement." Jason stands over him, glaring, angry. "I thought Bruce taught you better than this!"

"I almost killed Dick, Jason! I can't do that, okay? I can't hurt any of them." Tim pulls himself to his feet, and doesn't meet Jason's eyes.

"Then fucking control it, Replacement." There's another growl in Jason's voice - 

Tim's head snaps up, eyes widening. "Jason."

Jason grins, teeth sharper than they should be. "Daddy Bats never told the kiddies what happened to me, did he?"

"Jason - "

"Probably let you come to your own conclusions, right? What did you think it was, demonic possession?"

Tim blinks, trapped by the weight of Jason's gaze. That. _Yes_. 

It was the Joker who'd killed Jason, they all know that. Bruce had made sure they knew how dangerous he is, how dangerous all of them are. (Tim's seen the people who'd survived demonic possession, the ones who couldn't cope with what they'd seen, done.)

"Been there, done that, Pretender. It's a mindfuck, sure, but." Jason laughs. "You think something like that would break me?"

Some days Tim doesn't think Jason _has_ been broken, that maybe he's the sane one out of all of them. (Discounting Alfred.) Other days, other days there's something angry, feral lurking just under Jason's skin.

“You know about Joker's pets, Replacement?” Jason asks, cold, cruel. “And I'm not talking about those goddamn hyenas of his.”

Tim stops breathing for a moment. It's insane, but of course the Joker would do that, wouldn't he? A demon as powerful as he is, of course he would.

"The reason those poor bastards lose it?" Jason steps forward, forcing Tim back a step. "The reason people like us have to put them down?" Another step, and another until Tim's back is pressed up against the wall with nowhere left to go. "They don't fucking control it, Replacement. They give up like you're doing, and that makes them dangerous."

It can't be that simple. It _can't_ be that simple.

Jason laughs. "You want to die so bad, Replacement, go find yourself a hunter who doesn't know or care who you are.” Everyone knows who they are, and Jason knows it. “I'm not going to make it easy on you."

He steps back, regards Tim closely. "You going to give up, Replacement? Going to crawl off somewhere to die like an animal?"

"How do you do it?" It's a small, fluttering thing, tattered and fragile, this shred of hope Jason's offering him. "I. Jason. _How_." 

Hunters like them, they don't get happily ever afters, don't get the luxury of growing old. Tim rubs his face with his hands, ignoring the pain. "I don't think I can." The last thing he wants to do is hurt anyone, and if he can't control this, can't figure out how to - 

"Goddammit." Jason sighs. "You're a fucking pain in the ass, Replacement." 

Tim looks up at Jason, who's glaring at him like Tim got bitten just to make his life harder. "It's not going to be easy."

And. Tim laughs, because it's the same thing Bruce had said to him, back at the beginning, when Tim's parents had been attacked and Tim hadn't known what else to do.

 _It won't be easy and it'll only get harder. Quit now if you don't think you can handle it._

The corner of Jason's mouth twitches because yes, he got that too. Maybe not the best pep talk in the world, but it wasn't meant to be. This life they live isn't kind, doesn't allow for things like that.

Tim knew that, knew what he was getting himself into. (Or thought he did.)

“Replacement?”

Tim looks at Jason. He can see it now, smell it on him. Something more than human, something dark, primal. Something Tim has inside him now too. The only difference is that Jason isn't afraid of it, has learned not to be. Tim needs to learn that too. (What else can he do, knowing what he knows now?)

“Okay,” Tim says, hoping he's making the right choice.

 _False hope_ , part of his mind whispers, _this can't work_. (It has to. Tim doesn't want to die.)


End file.
